


Crashing Autopilot

by TenchiKai



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 13:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10466466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenchiKai/pseuds/TenchiKai
Summary: (set in the When you were young verse, during the alternate ending.)Victor had always owned a piece of him. Before they ever met in person, during the time they had together as coach and student, and now more than ever. He couldn’t lie to himself. Not anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phisen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/gifts).
  * Inspired by [When you were young](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9313955) by [phisen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen). 



> our lovely [phisen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/phisen/pseuds/phisen) wrote me a gift, so I wanted to do the same for her. I wrote a small tribute to the story that brought us together, [When you were young](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9313955/chapters/21110270).
> 
> <3

He felt the pulse of the love bites. Indulged in the body aches from the time they spent entangled. His lips still tingled from that last kiss. He knew, deep down, he was marked. Claimed for good, and not just from the time they had recently shared.

Victor had always owned a piece of him. Before they ever met in person, during the time they had together as coach and student, and now more than ever. He couldn’t lie to himself. Not anymore.

He was never, ever getting that piece of him back.

He didn’t know when he had made it back to his studio apartment, but that’s where he found himself.

As the plastic bag full of forgotten items dropped to the floor unnoticed, he closed the door behind him. The moment following, he pressed his back against said door and let his body slide down to the wooden floor. In the darkness of the empty apartment, he tucked his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself. Like he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

The tears he’d been holding back began to fall like rain. They were gentle at first, but quickly became sobs that shook him, made him hiccup. He didn’t bother trying to levee the tide, this emptying of his emotions. He wanted to let it all go and never feel again. He wanted to stop feeling all together.

_He said he’d be okay! All I have to do is be okay, too. All I have to do is feel the way I felt before. I was okay without him!_

_...Wasn’t I?_

The memories were flooding to him at an excruciating speed. He couldn’t stop them, just like the shaky sobs. Each memory was an arrow to his shattering glass heart.

The meeting of their eyes at the hot spring, the way he couldn’t breathe when he declared that he was his coach. Their first kiss on the ice, a surprise he’d never forget. The first time they succumbed to their passions, their first day together in Barcelona. Before …

The goodbye, the leaving. The running away.

And seeing him again, so many years later. A hotel room and an empty paper cup in his trembling hands. Later, his hands buttoning his shirt.

A last kiss. Another goodbye.

He tightened his arms around himself, withdrew further in. He felt lost, empty somehow. A few hours ago, with Victor by his side, it was almost as if he allowed himself to come back together. But how long had he been in pieces? Had he really been broken this whole time?

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, hugging himself and swimming in that sea of memories on replay. It could’ve been forever, for all he knew.

_Buzz. Buuzzzz. Buzzzzzzzz._

He was vaguely aware of that annoying hum. His phone, vibrating violently in his pocket. It brought him back to reality, for just a moment. Jostled him out of his own head. But it wasn’t until it stopped that he dared look at it.

He was so desperate for something, anything to distract him. Anything that could make him feel something other than the drowning sensation he was full of now. Anything. So, with some effort, he pulled it out of his pocket. The screen lit up, and his eyes adjusted from the darkness that was surrounding him.

_Four missed calls? Oh well, it’s not a Japanese number, so it’s not an emergency or--_

A text message, from that strange number that had called him four times.

_From: +33 66 xxx xx xx_

_If you don't want to pick up, can you at least come outside?_

His thoughts began to race out of control. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was racing, too, now. Suddenly, he couldn’t believe anything. This isn’t _him_. Couldn’t be. But it also had to be. Who else? He should stop and think. But he didn’t, couldn’t. His body knew what it wanted and it moved accordingly.

His legs were shaky as ever, tears had never stopped falling, but the sobs had at least paused. With determination, he stood up. Stood up, opened his door against the bag of _whatever he had gotten_ , and, with little grace, stumbled out of his apartment door.

He looked, frantically searching for silver hair and blue eyes, the things he hoped to see. The things that belonged to him.

 _Buzz. Buuuzzzz._ His phone was still in his hand, and it was vibrating again. He looked down at it, shock hitting his system when he realized. It was that number. It was _him._ Had to be.

His hands trembled, but he managed to answer after some difficulty, putting it to his ear and resuming his search for silver hair and blue eyes. He was more focused on finding him, focused on telling him all about his revelation now that he’d have a chance.

He tried to choke out a greeting. Tried to put two words - or even just one - together, but it came out as a hiccup.

“Hey.” That velvet voice that sang in his memories spoke to him. He thought he’d have to live without it. His only response was to choke, sob a little bit more. He wished he could say something, anything, but he still couldn’t. Couldn’t control his breathing. He hand flew up to his mouth.

“I see you.” He was here, he was here and … “Shall we meet? If you’re nodding, I can’t really tell. I’m not that close. So… how about it?” He was here and he wanted to see him. He wanted to see him. Had he missed his flight for him already? _But why? How?_

 _No! No more questions._ He fought against his own thoughts, composing himself as best he could. He wanted this. They wanted this. “Where are you?”

“Walk down the stairs.” Again, his body moved before the impulse to do so even reached his brain. All of this was happening so fast. In these moments, he wasn’t conflicted at all. He knew what he wanted, and he was fighting to get it. To get to it.

“What now?” He asked, eager to find him. Eager to finally talk. Talk and get these feelings out of him that were dancing under his skin. Tears were still falling, but he was also hopping a little on his feet, eager to move.

"Cross the parking lot and turn right when you reach the street.” And he ran. Ran in the direction that he was guided, picking up the pace as he got closer. Closer to what he wanted.

He turned a corner, and he was in front of him. In front of the man who had his missing piece. Who _was_ his missing piece. He wasn’t sure at what point the painful tears stopped and the happy tears started, or which were falling now.

“Hey, you found me.” That soft velvet touching his ears again. The sound alone making him weak.

He wanted to move, but… now that he was here, touchable and so very real, his insecurities ate away at his past determination with surprising ease.

“Oh, Yuuri.” His name, now. In that warm tone. He was going to fall to his knees. “I saw you, you know. There at the hotel. You came back.” _Of course I did! I love you! I’ve been a fool!_

His arms grabbed for him, unsure of what else to do. His fingers reached the fabric of his jacket, digging into it. He needed to prove this was real, that this was happening. He felt the electricity of before, pulling him closer and providing his body with shivers.

This was real.

None of it mattered. He was here. They were here. Together. He was getting a third chance at everything. How long had he been on autopilot? No more. 


End file.
